Awkward Plea

A realized dream is to be able to convey a past without instigating a fear of those tumultuous places still lingering in the present. Potentially, in a best dream, to have other souls experiencing similar tumult, read and know they are not alone.

Because it was decided to take on a huge challenge and share the experience of these chaoses with one so near our introduction, a great trepidation of having left the sole reader raw by its emery, and fearful of future potential rearings has me curbed, though anxious to bring light to the present.

 

Its a given no one is entirely healed, and at times can slip back into patterns familiar and unhealthy. As of late floating on lofty notions of fascination and allure, the quiet beacon towards the sustainable was almost entirely blared over. Though, in recognition of what is required for one to take initiative into healthier lasting potential, it is hoped in writing this expression, the dip into the chaotic will be afforded some inkling of a saving grace.

Also, the eager lot within me sojourn into the hard facts of reality and come back steady and silent. 

An amnesia of sorts, to get through these days without a heavy heart.

Wide eyed

Imagine life's energies alive and in motion surrounding you. 

The whirl holds your life with all it's rough, all it's sweet, and all it's potential.

There's a center, a home where one resides smack dab in the middle. 

This "eye" affords a potential vantage of all one's life has already taken on and experienced, containing links to the methods taken, lessons learned, as well as the potential of varying future scenarios.

The centered soul has the capacity to affect the whirl's energy output. As in pulling in the dark tumultuous times to speed the whirl into a constricted funnel with one becoming too short sited for fair and appropriate response. Or, at the other end of the spectrum, beckon a bright soft embrace, slowed and soothed by love and care, where breath is afforded for a realization of a best case scenario to be instilled and enacted. 

Thus, the potential for destruction and the power to pollinate.

Gone for good

The Phoenix and the Turtle

found a fatal flaw in the logic of love

It is not one to the next

Yes, a devotion 

Yes, a span entangled within energies and muscle memory 

But also you!

You!

Do not concede to a mediocre experience of joy

Dig into your wants and craving

Grasp at the things which appeal to your mind's eye

I will not impede your process

Truth and beauty be not buried

Fatal is the logic of love

Sing to us of all tedium and folly 

Though save it not for your coming days

Sin fetcha

I read

& now I'm at a loss for words to you 

The ether

My love 

The ever intangibility

The ever romantic notion of a love 

I want to share my edge with you

A romantic notion of care

Of delivery in a letter

with words of which I do lack to you, ether 

Where I wish to be the nothing 

The ever intangible 

So frequently the desire haunts, calls, and nags

then whispers

Ebb & flux & beat into

this thick existence 

this endless stream of not good enoughs 

So why bother

To you

I wish freedom from me

To me 

I wish freedom & logic to be so 

 of it

Cherish

Raw reveal in childlike impulse

Care to show the seasoned withhold

Ah, I see

Mirrored to a vacuous vantage

Truth and timing 

Here in waste and want and take 

Now in give and do and fill

Challenged by such a vapid notion

The odds are always in the house's favor